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* * *
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”Sammy was almost over the bridge, entering the busy maze of New York, but the memory of Logan bare chested in the freezing cold, looking after the police car that had taken him away, was burned in his brain now. He was so ashamed of acting like such a fucking child, he simply couldn’t go back and face the other man. What was he going to say to Logan anyway?I’m sorry for running away! Let’s be fucking soulmates.
He cursed himself again and again for being so rash and not giving Logan even a single moment to explain his situation. The tow truck driver who had taken him back to the small town of Saratoga Springs – that was obviously Logan’s hometown – had at least been a little bit more kind in his retelling of Logan’s tragedy. He tried not to ask invasive questions and listened attentively at the worst possible scenario someone could live through. Sammy knew loss, but he also knew that he was in no way equipped to be with Logan, considering what the other man had been through.
He wanted to go back so many times but was horrified of his own inconsiderate behavior. The thought he may have even taken advantage of Logan briefly crossed his mind and made him sick. Had Logan simply been so very lonely and desperate for human contact and physical affection, he had allowed Sammy to kiss and hold him? He shook the thought away.
No. They had spent the entire day together, and he could feel the attraction between them simmer slowly and become stronger. Logan had let go of keeping Sammy at arm’s length and they had just been enjoying each other’s company. They had both built up to their kiss, and it had felt so damn perfect, Sammy wanted to scream, knowing he would never get to kiss the other man again. He wanted to feel that organic connection between them once more. He wanted to run back to Logan, but he was fucking petrified that he had hurt him with his rash escape.Sammy seldom did apologies or cared enough about feelings to be mindful of his actions. Until now, when all he could think of was, how damn sorry he was.
When he walked in his small one-bedroom studio apartment, the place felt more like a hide-out than a home. He called James to tell him he was back sooner than he had planned, but his call went straight to voicemail. He left a message, asking his friend to get back to him, so they could make plans to hang out the following week, when Sammy could drop the car off at his place.
Then as he sat idly at his desk, his morbid curiosity won and he googled Logan, the town he was from and car crash, and sure enough, about five different articles popped up. The images of the mangled car made Sammy feel so very sad for Logan. He read about his sustained injuries and the few articles suggesting he may have been drunk or driving recklessly. That was obviously proven to be incorrect, and in the end, it was all just one big, horrible tragedy. He couldn't help but get angry at the one small article where the parents of his wife Sophy – Beth and Carl – had been quoted saying,We only want justice for Sophy.They were clearly implying the incident had been Logan’s fault and Sammy could only imagine how much that must have messed with his head.
He fucking wanted to kick himself for not asking Logan more. He could tell the other man was holding back a lot. At the time, he decided it wasn’t his place to pressure him into talking more about himself, just so he could satisfy his own curiosity. He knew he wanted to spend more time with Logan from the moment he'd come down the stairs and caught him feeding Morpheus the burned toast. His blue eyes were beautiful, even if they were somewhat tired and sleepy. Something had immediately tugged at him, and Sammy had wanted to hold him and kiss him so bad.
With all the information he had found online, he easily tracked down Logan's old social media accounts and even Sophy’s. Sammy pretty much spent the night aimlessly dissecting everything about the man who had infatuated him. Logan and Sophy had looked to be so in love and when he saw Jordan's photos, he cried his eyes out. No wonder Logan hadn't said anything about them. Judging by his own reaction, Logan must be sick of people ugly crying in his face and talking about the incident all the time or asking him about his PTSD.
Sammy decided to stop digging online around one in the morning, and after shoving his laptop away, he lay in bed thinking about Logan for a very long time.
He filed away all the information and images he had uncovered online, somewhere deep in his mind. Sammy focused on Logan as he had been with him. Howattentive and sweet he had been, and how seen he made Sammy feel. No matter what information Sammy had volunteered about himself, Logan had enjoyed hearing all of it without dismissing his experiences or judging him for not having a clear path carved in life. The way Logan looked at him, like he was freaking special, made his belly swoop and his breath hitch. He just wanted to stare at the other man in appreciation of his own unique beauty and character.
Logan had thick black straight hair, that Sammy wanted to run his fingers through and pull back to reveal his neck for a kiss. His lashes were long and framed his beautiful blue eyes. His stubble was soft, and his lips were cherry red, plump and firm. He could still feel them brush against his own. He should have stayed in the fucking bed and waited.
The humiliating thought that he wasn't good enough for Logan crossed his mind. The life of the other man was complicated to say the least. What could Sammy possibly have to offer him anyway?
* * *
The next dayhe called James, only to have his call picked up by his friend’s sometimes most vicious enemy and most times on-and-off girlfriend Danika. He groaned internally and rolled his eyes, when she played dumb and asked him who was calling and if they had an appointment.
“Hi, Danika, it’s just me, Sammy.” She just had to pretend she had no idea who he was, and he would have loved to tell her off and curse her ass, but she had James’s phone and his outburst could mean a very bad development for the mobile device. Danika was crazy and was known to toss phones out of windows, over balconies, and at walls. She had excellent aim, as all crazy people do.
“Sammy who?”
“Samuel Mori-Ikeda, from the house of the rising sun you bi…babe.” He caught himself in the last moment.
“Oh, hey, Sammy, what’s up?” He slapped his forehead, but bit down on another insult he had ready in his reserve for Danika.
“I was hoping to talk to James. Is he around?”
“Nope.” She offered no further explanation and he almost thought she had hung up when she huffed impatiently twenty seconds later. “Is there anything else?”
“Uh, no I just ––”
“Okay, byeeee!” This time she hung up, and he wanted to fling his own phone at the wall.
Fine, the car would stay with him. He thought James probably had enough on his plate getting back together with Danika and wouldn’t need it anyway. She was ridiculously beautiful, rich, and absolutely insane. More than a handful for sure, and he doubted he would hear from James in the next few weeks if they were really giving love another go.
He had no other jobs booked for the next few days, so he settled with his laptop and began organizing the images for the book. As if he needed another painful reminder of Logan and Morpheus. Logan had tried really hard to stay out of the photos, but Sammy had sneaked quite a few snaps of him, and they were stashed away in another folder, separate from his project. He hadn’t shown Logan the images, suddenly concerned the other man might think he was being a bit of a creep.
It had been too good of an opportunity to miss – Logan in his black beanie, strands of black hair poking out and his skin still somehow sun-kissed. His lips were almost red. The contrast of all the colors on his face, his dark hair and stubble, his thick arched brows and lashes, his beautiful blue eyes and red lips and golden skin, all of that glory, wrapped up in the steam of his breath late in the day when the sky was bathed in orange and pink, made him look dreamy, like his image was straight out of a movie.
Sammy closed the folder and forced himself to focus. With nothing else on his plate and Logan in the back of his mind he finished his project by the end of the day. Once he had gone through the draft at least twenty times, he submitted it for print. This was the first project he had actually finished from beginning to end, in an extremely reasonable time in God knows how long. A small pang of pride rose in his chest, only to be trampled by guilt and worry over Logan.
He could call him. He could message him. He could even write him a fucking letter. But the truth was, all he wanted to do was get in the car and go back to him.And fucking do what, Samuel?
Normally, Sammy was quick to move on to the next thing. Go to a club, hook up with someone new, any and every distraction was welcome. But this time, the thought of anyone else kissing him just felt fucking wrong. That’s when he knew he was in trouble.
* * *
